


Christmas Story

by Sorsa



Series: Clover verse [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cute, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, cavity inducing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 18:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9001729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorsa/pseuds/Sorsa
Summary: When Altaïr comes home with a small pig and the intentions of turning the pig into their Christmas dinner eight months from now, Malik can't help but feel the whole thing is going to end up miserably. He was not wrong. Well he was not wrong entirely.
Set in the same universe as Clover.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this story stewing in my mind for a while and I've been itching to write it. Then I got the flu and all of my writings were delayed because of it but I did manage to make it in time for Christmas with this one.
> 
> So Merry Christmas to everyone and happy Holidays! This is my Christmas gift to the fandom :)

The pale spring sun shone from the cloudless sky illuminating the yard and warming up the ground from where the snow was starting to melt. Snow-free patches of grass and gravel could be seen here and there.

 

Malik wiped his hand on the back of his overalls as Altaïr’s car pulled next to the tractor he had been working on. The hydraulic oil smelled oddly sweet and got everywhere.

 

The front loader had been acting up as he had been feeding the cattle, making his morning tasks needlessly difficult. It was sometimes hard enough to try and use the front loader’s controls while at the same time trying to turn the tractor in some direction without the addition of having to give it gas like a madman.

 

But he had found the fault in a leaking hose and then gotten that hose replaced. Now the thing was working good as new.

 

Altaïr on the other hand was home early and he couldn’t help but scan the car with scrutiny. Altaïr was almost never home early since he really loved his job and was a favourite among the local populace. It was suspicious to say the least.

 

Last time Altaïr had come home early he had decided to surprise Malik with some stupid overly expensive gift which he had made Altaïr return. Even after years of being married Altaïr’s stupidity sometimes still knew no bounds.

 

Not that he was really expecting Altaïr to change, though he had changed plenty since their first meeting. Altaïr wouldn’t be Altaïr if he sometimes wasn’t impulsive prick.

 

Malik smiled to himself.

 

Altaïr got up from the car and Napoleon swiftly followed him outside. Malik stepped closer to the car and tried to figure out why his husband was so early. He still couldn’t find anything.

 

“You are early,” he remarked and Altaïr flashed a smirk in return. Malik frowned as he had learned that this particular smirk always meant trouble. Altaïr thought himself to be so clever.

 

And then he heard it. It was an unmistakable squeal the kind that small pigs let out when handled against their will.

 

He stepped against the car and landed his hand on the roof of the car and peered inside. There was a small pig inside a cardboard box in the backseat. Altaïr was reaching for the pig and still smiling like an idiot. Altaïr was an idiot.

 

“Why did you bring a pig home?” he asked even though he already had a pretty good guess for the answer.

 

“You see, he was too small for the farmer and was going to be put down but I thought we could raise him up and the eat him on Christmas,” Altaïr answered with a triumphant glee and no doubt pleased as to how clever he had been.

 

The pig squealed in protest as Altaïr took it in his arms. Malik scowled and stared at it murderously. It was absolutely adorable with it’s pink slightly hairy skin. It was also a problem.

 

“You really think you can eat that?” Malik pointed at the pig.

 

“Of course! We send cattle to the slaughter all the time. This can’t be any different from that,” Altaïr proclaimed sure of himself.

 

Malik rolled his eyes and then landed his hand on his hip because he was so not done with the topic yet.

 

“Have you thought where it will live or what it will eat?”

 

“I thought you might ask that. I’ve thought of everything.”

 

Malik face palmed and watched Napoleon run rounds around the yard in search of something.

 

Altaïr then continued whilst sounding very proud of himself and his plan “He can live in the byre since there’s only Clover living in there. There’s plenty of space. We can feed him leftovers so he will be an organic pig or at least very ethical one.”

 

Malik sighed. He knew there was no turning Altaïr’s mind when he had gotten something like this stuck in his mind. He wasn’t necessarily against the idea but he just had a creeping feeling that the pig wouldn’t end up as their Christmas dinner.

 

“Fine. But we will buy it pig feed so it will actually turn out healthy. You also need to vaccinate it or else it will die of flu or something,” he relented.

 

Altaïr looked like he had won the lottery as the words left Malik’s mouth.

 

And so he found himself carrying new straw to the byre that day to make a comfortable place for the pig to live in. They also gave the pig a football which was pinched from the dogs so it would have something to do.

 

******************

 

The snows melted and Malik found himself spending all the waking hours driving the tractor furiously trying to get the spring work done in time. Altaïr helped whenever he could but he had his own work to do so most of the time Malik just went on about his things by himself.

 

He listened to podcasts from his phone which he had paired up with his ear protectors and carried a coffee thermos with him at all times. He didn’t always remember to go back to the house to eat and would be starving at the end of the day but he did have coffee to keep him going.

 

The going was rough as he drove the tractor over the ploughed soil despite the new tractor having a better seat suspension than the old one had. He had to keep the hand throttle on at all times because at times the whole thing would jump so much he wouldn’t be able to reach the petals and all he could do was to grip on the steering wheel in an attempt to keep it going straight.

 

At the end of the day he would be grumpy and tired, wanting nothing more than to just fall into bed end pass out. His muscles would be sore and stiff. Yet he needed to get up early in the morning to feed the animals and then rinse and repeat the previous day.

 

He was so glad the spring work didn’t last forever.

 

It was one of those days when he wandered in a zombie-like state to the house after he had returned thrice to the tractor to make sure he had actually switched off the lights and power. He was simply too exhausted to properly remember what he had done and not had done.

 

He could barely lift his knees high enough to climb the few steps into the front door. Somehow he managed in the task without falling on his face.

 

Inside he was greeted by utter silence. Even the dogs didn’t bother waking up and coming to greet him. The clock on the wall ticked loudly and his own footsteps sounded as if an elephant was marching through.

 

He knew he was covered in shit and mud, and definitely needed a shower before he would collapse into the bed where he would cuddle up into Altaïr’s side. Though he would never admit of wanting to cuddle and just claimed Altaïr to be clingy in his sleep which was true but not the whole truth.

 

He got rid of his overalls, folding them over a kitchen chair where he would pick them up the next day and then went to the bathroom for a shower.

 

He snapped the lights on and they were way too bright for his tired eyes. He put the water running while he got undressed. All of his clothes went straight to the laundry basket which was bursting with dirty clothes already since he had not had time nor the energy to do any housework in weeks and he didn’t trust Altaïr with laundry.

 

He could let Altaïr hang the clean clothes to dry but there was no way he allowed the catastrophe that was sure to follow from allowing Altaïr to wash them. He didn’t want his clothes to turn into weird shapes and strange colours from a complete lack of understanding as to how laundry worked.

 

The downside of that was of course what was right in front of him. He frowned at the pile of clothes as if they offended him on some base level. They did offend him on a base level.

 

Then he stepped inside the warm spray of water and immediately got to scrubbing himself clean since he was sure he would fall asleep in the shower if he lingered too long. He didn’t want to wake up by hitting his head on the tile floor.

 

The door to the bathroom opened as he had turned to face the wall. He took a quick look over his shoulder and saw Altaïr coming in wearing nothing but his underwear.

 

Malik sighed and sagged his shoulders. He wished so much he had not been as tired as he was.

 

“I thought you were asleep,” he said as he felt a warm body pressing against him from behind.

 

“I couldn’t sleep alone,” Altaïr replied and reached for the bar of soap in Malik’s hand and Malik allowed the motion.

 

He had learned to accept Altaïr occasionally helping him to wash his remaining arm and his back. It no longer hurt his pride to be helped in certain things that were just impossible for him.

 

“How did you ever manage to sleep alone before you moved in?” Malik teased.

 

Altaïr’s hand went up and down his arm with firm movements scrubbing the grime out of him.

 

“Badly.”

 

Malik snorted.

 

“You are incorrigible.”

 

Altaïr’s hands did wonders to his stiff back muscles as they worked to scrub his back and gave him a massage while at it. Malik had no reason to object to the treatment and resigned to just giving tired sighs every now and again.

 

“But I am your incorrigible husband.”

 

“This is true,” Malik mumbled and felt like he was about to turn into a pudding from the exhaustion and the treatment Altaïr was giving him. So to prevent from nodding off he turned around despite Altaïr’s small objections.

 

“I’ll wash your back so turn around,” he commanded and Altaïr obeyed with a small whine.

 

It was small affections like this which kept them both going even when things got hard at times. Before Altaïr had entered his life Malik had not even known how much happiness sharing a shower with someone could bring and how much he had needed someone to share his lonely existence.

 

It also helped that Altaïr was every gay man’s dream with a ridiculously good body even if his brain was sometimes full of fluff. But underneath all the bravado and idiocy Altaïr was actually one of the more intelligent people he had ever met. They could just as easily hold a conversation about insemination or Nietzschean philosophy and it would all be wonderful.

 

“I’ve been teaching Poppy to come over when he’s being called. He is really fast learner,” Altaïr suddenly commented.

 

It brought Malik’s attention to the present.

 

“Poppy?”

 

Altaïr turned around grinning like the idiot he was and snatched the soap from Malik.

 

“The pig. When I’ve fed the animals I’ve used the opportunity to teach him. I think Clover is slightly envious as she keeps mooing unhappily whenever I teach Poppy.”

 

Malik practically could feel the creeping headache taking over his head as he thought about the situation. Altaïr had named the pig they were supposed to eat at Christmas. It was still over half a year until Christmas and their ham had a name. The ham was called Poppy.

 

“Clover is spoiled rotten. But you really shouldn’t name the pig since you will get attached to it,” Malik said as he watched Altaïr wash his stupidly defined abs.

 

“Don’t worry about it. I won’t get attached. It just feels weird to call him ‘the pig’ while everyone else here has a name.”

 

Malik could see the logic in the statement but also the dangers too. He realised he would be better start mentally preparing himself for having yet another pet farm animal which couldn’t be slaughtered because it was too dear to them. Or at least too dear to Altaïr. He himself wasn’t nearly as attached to the thing nor would he ever be.

 

But he was too tired to argue with Altaïr over the points of naming the pig so he just nodded and waited until Altaïr was done cleaning himself before stepping out of the shower to dry up. They towelled themselves dry and then left the bathroom.

 

He shooed away the two dogs and one cat which had taken over their bed and threw himself in. The cushions were soft and wonderful but it was even more wonderful to curl up against Altaïr and fall asleep with the strong arms around himself.

 

*************************

 

Summer came and by mutual decision they decided to try how Poppy would enjoy the outside air. They didn’t bother building any fences for it and instead decided the shepherd dogs Stalin and Lenin could use the exercise and bring Poppy back if he wandered too far away.

 

Altaïr’s attempts at teaching Poppy to respond to its name bore fruit as well and the pig would come running if called. It was now already quite big since the type of a pig Poppy was tended to grow rather quickly.

 

It was still rather cute though when it looked at them with its beady eyes which held a flash of intelligence Malik had never seen exhibited in a cow or even a dog. But then of course he would find the pig chewing on a tyre and he couldn’t understand how it could be so stupid.

 

Altaïr was having his summer break and the hay season was upon them. Poppy had wandered after them to the fields a few times ignoring the two dogs that had desperately tried to goad it back to the farm.

 

The scorching heat made Malik antsy and Altaïr kept complaining how the old tractor didn’t have air conditioning as if the warm breath that came out of the other one constituted as cooling. They had bought a new baler this year and it at least made things easier than wrestling with the old one which seemed to be malfunctioning more than it actually worked.

 

It was a combiner baler which both baled and wrapped the bales in plastic whereas the old one needed someone to drive behind it and then wrap them up separately. It had been Altaïr’s idea to get one like that while Malik would have been fine just getting the baler replaced and using the old method. It was bloody expensive too and despite knowing they could afford it the old habits died hard and Malik couldn’t help but think he had done some sort of grave mistake and would end up paying for it sooner or later.

 

They had stopped to enjoy lunch as Altaïr was much more strict about taking breaks and actually eating than Malik was. If it were up to Malik he would have just went on until the daylight run out or he would collapse on top of the steering wheel. With there being only a few hours of darkness the likely scenario was the collapsing.

 

It had happened too when he once fell asleep while raking and drove into a ditch. He had waken up only when Altaïr had appeared and threatened to call an ambulance. He had somehow managed to calm his husband down with the promise of going to the house for sleep.

 

Loud barking could be heard from nearby which caught both of their attention. It wasn’t hard to guess what was going on and sure enough in a bit two shelties accompanied by a pig appeared on the hayfield. Napoleon seemed to be trailing somewhere behind more interested in sniffing flowers at the side of a ditch than herding a pig.

 

Malik had to check twice if he was seeing correctly as he saw a bright red collar on Poppy. He gave Altaïr, who was suddenly rummaging something from his tractor, a sidelong glance.

 

“Why does Poppy have a collar on him?” Malik questioned with irritation.

 

He didn’t want to deal with whatever stupid idea Altaïr had had this time.

 

“I thought it would be a good thing if he ever wondered to our neighbour’s house so they would know he’s our pig.”

 

Malik rubbed his face in an exaggerated manner as he tried to comprehend Altaïr’s train of thought.

 

“Our nearest neighbour lives over a kilometre away and how is the collar going to help with anything?”

 

The small horde of animals reached them. The dogs, except for Napoleon who just wanted to climb into Malik’s lap, were obviously frustrated while Malik could swear Poppy the pig was laughing at them. He relented and took the small dog up.

 

Then Altaïr attached a leash on Poppy’s collar and Malik couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

 

“You taught him to walk on the leash?”

 

“I did,” Altaïr declared triumphantly. Malik kept rolling his eyes.

 

Oddly enough Poppy did walk on the leash like a dog would. Malik carried the small dog and wondered what his life had come to. Altaïr at least seemed to have fun judging by the foolish grin that was plastered on his face and after a while a small smile crept on his features almost against his will.

 

They were an odd pair anyway so maybe it wasn’t all that bad to sometimes walk a pig on the leash. Admittedly Poppy was a very smart pig and seemed to be rather attached to them much the same way a dog would be.

 

It would be such a shame to turn Poppy into their Christmas dinner but he wasn’t about to say that aloud.

 

*******************

 

The summer turned into a very wet and cold autumn. The harvest had almost been ruined by the constant rains but with persistence and many nights sacrificed to running the combine whenever there was dry enough days he managed to salvage almost everything.

 

The dryers were running day and night. Clover and Poppy had to move inside the byre earlier than they had planned because of the bad weather but at least they didn’t have to fetch the pig from his daily trips to the area around the farm when he was inside.

 

It also meant that Malik could enjoy a relative peace for a while. All he had to do was to file the endless amounts of paperwork for agricultural aid which made up most of the income for the farm as the price for the grains they produced was laughable and he didn’t have enough Highland cattle to live off of only that.

 

He also took care of the animals as he did during the summer and handled the household chores almost single handedly. This included feeding Poppy and cleaning his pen in the byre.

 

Poppy was almost at the optimal weight for slaughter and had had only months left of his life. The pig had been a fun addition to their family and he might even miss Poppy when he was gone.

 

But he had decided he wouldn’t allow his heart to turn soft in this matter or they wouldn’t ever be able to give up any of their animals. It simply wasn’t good business in their line of work.

 

He sat at the kitchen table with a pile of papers in front of him and watched the rain fall on the muddy ground outside. Steaming mug of coffee sat on the table which he was currently content to ignore in favour of humouring himself with the struggle Altaïr was having outside, trying to get the shopping bags out of the car without getting too wet himself.

 

Altaïr wore a long raincoat which Malik had dubbed in his mind as the “James Herriot coat” because it looked completely ridiculous and was so old fashioned he couldn’t even begin. Altaïr claimed it was very handy because it had big pockets in it but that was the same as claiming that wellies were good for driving a car because they were easy to put on.

 

He smiled at the thought and leaned on his arm. He smiled a lot these days it seemed. It was only very rarely he felt miserable.

 

He heard the front door opening and so did the dogs who ran to greet Altaïr eagerly. He sipped on the coffee before getting up to help Altaïr with the groceries.

 

“Don’t worry about it. I can handle it,” Altaïr protested as Malik wrenched one of the bags out of his hands.

 

“I’m sure you can,” Malik replied and gave a kiss on Altaïr’s cheek.

 

The dogs swarmed around their legs for a while before getting bored and buggering off to sleep on the couch. Malik put down the bag on the kitchen counter and started putting away the groceries.

 

“There’s coffee if you want,” he said when Altaïr emerged back to the kitchen wearing dry clothes.

 

“I wouldn’t mind some of that, thanks,” and sure enough Altaïr made a beeline for the coffee maker.

 

Altaïr’s caffeine addiction had gotten worse as the years went on. When they had met Altaïr had only barely touched the stuff and only drank out of politeness but now it seemed like his husband couldn’t live without coffee.

 

“How was work?” Malik asked and eyed the suspicious-looking cans of tomato soup before putting them into the cupboard.

 

“Nothing special. There’s some strangles suspicions in the nearby stable but we can’t know for sure before the test results come in,” Altaïr answered and greedily drank his coffee as if it might run out if he wasn’t quick about it.

 

“I suppose it’s that time of the year,” Malik answered.

 

“Yeah, it’s cold and wet but not yet freezing and the people are suddenly going around with their horses. It’s like inviting some disease to come and strike.”

 

“I’m so glad I’m not in the business of horses,” Malik commented and put away more of the groceries.

 

“You would have to deal with people if you were in that business. You deal extremely badly with people,” Altaïr replied and poured more coffee and then sat down on the table.

 

“Most of the people are stupid. You know I can’t deal with stupidity.”

 

Altaïr smirked.

 

“Yet here I am,” Altaïr said and looked entirely too smug.

 

Malik put away the last of the things in the bags and turned around properly.

 

“Yes. I wonder how that happened,” he teased and sat down on Altaïr’s lap, feeling more than a little mischievous.

 

“I was thinking about the slaughter —” Altaïr begun and Malik silenced him with a kiss. He wasn’t interested in talking about blood and guts at the moment.

 

It didn’t take much effort to have Altaïr pawing at him eagerly. Malik could smell the distinct smell that was Altaïr when he nibbled at Altaïr’s ear and his husband’s firm back muscles underneath his hand were enough to excite him for hundred years.

 

Before he even knew it he was bent over the kitchen table letting out pitiable noises as Altaïr was all over him. The papers fell on the floor in piles but all he could care at that moment were Altaïr’s lips on his back and the wonders his hands were doing for him.

 

When they were both adequately sated they cuddled on the living room couch under a blanket while the TV played on the background. Altaïr felt warm and wonderful. There were no words for the feelings Malik felt and he felt like opening his mouth would cheapen the moment so he remained quiet.

 

Apparently the feeling was mutual as Altaïr was simply content on slowly brushing Malik’s side with his hand.

 

******************

 

Two weeks until Christmas and Poppy was still alive and in one piece. Usually the poor pig would have been slaughtered already a month ago and at the very latest now. The meat had to be drained of blood and left hanging for a week to make it good for human consumption.

 

But Poppy wasn’t hanging from a hook despite Altaïr’s continuous promises of how he would call the local hunter to let the pig out of his misery. Malik had already budgeted Poppy’s feeding costs for the next year.

 

He was at this point sure that if Altaïr ever managed to actually call the hunter in he would rush out himself and prevent the slaughter from happening. He wasn’t going to admit it aloud but he had grown fond of the pig and considered it part of the family just like the dogs, cats, and Clover were.

 

He had sent Altaïr out to do the evening feeding, wanting to finish the book he was reading as he was nearing the end. But he couldn’t concentrate on the last few pages of it because Altaïr had been gone way too long.

 

He eyed the clock on the wall briefly and decided that he should go out to see what was holding Altaïr up. So he got up and Mao the cat who had been lounging on his lap looked very offended for having to get up.

 

He was wearing just his pajamas since had not had any intention to go out any longer that evening. He draped a long coat over his shoulders and slipped on wellies that felt horribly cold against his bare feet.

 

The shepherds were out with Altaïr but Napoleon jumped around his feet in excitement when he stepped outside into the freezing air. His hair was still slightly damp from the shower he had taken earlier and he could feel his hair freezing slightly as the wind blew against him.

 

It was dark but the snow combined with the lights they had installed the previous year on the yard illuminated everything well enough. It did nothing to lessen the cold though and he hugged himself with his one arm as well as he could to keep warm.

 

He walked through the piled up snow to the cattle pen to see if Altaïr was still feeding the Highlanders. But all he found was dozens of lazily ruminating cows staring at him behind their ridiculous looking furry coats.

 

He could see the tractor tracks in the snow though so Altaïr had been there not all that long ago. He decided to follow them to figure out where the idiot had gone to.

 

The tracks lead behind the byre and the tractor had been parked right outside the door leading to where Clover and Poppy lived in. He pulled the door open and stepped inside the rather dimly lit byre.

 

His nose started running immediately as he was greeted by not freezing air. It wasn’t terribly warm there either – at least to be wearing just pajamas and a coat.

 

Napoleon run off to somewhere and he could hear rustling of straw and dogs making excited noises. Altaïr was most certainly inside if the dogs were too.

 

He walked to where Clover’s and Poppy’s pens were in the back of the byre where calving pens used to be when he still had dairy cows not all that long ago. There he found Altaïr sitting on the straw, looking miserably at Poppy who wanted to play with the dogs.

 

He closed the distance between them and sat besides Altaïr. The straw prickled him through his thin pajama pants and he was sure he didn’t have much feeling left in his toes.

 

They sat in silence observing the pig and Malik tried silently guessing what it was all about.

 

“I thought I could eat him but I can’t,” Altaïr suddenly said without any prompting.

 

So this what this all was about. Malik leaned against Altaïr and wished that for once he had his left arm so he could properly comfort Altaïr. Luckily for him Altaïr leaned into the touch by himself and rested his head on Malik’s shoulder.

 

“I know. It’s okay. You aren’t nearly as cold hearted as you like to think you are. I was prepared for this from the beginning.” Malik comforted and kissed Altaïr’s head.

 

“I feared you might get angry,” Altaïr said and hugged Malik like a child would a teddy bear. Malik smiled.

 

“Why would I get angry at you? Because you have a good heart?” Malik poked at Altaïr’s chest with his hand and Altaïr caught his hand in his own. Altaïr’s hand was warm, making Malik savour the feeling.

 

“I don’t think I will ever be able to eat pork again.” Altaïr brushed his fingers over Malik’s cold knuckles.

 

They stayed like that for a long while just enjoying each other’s closeness and taking comfort in their proximity. Malik watched Poppy digging through the thick straw padding for whatever he might have dropped in between the straw.

 

Occasionally the pig would raise his head and look directly him in the eye. Poppy’s small eyes showed an expression as if he had understood their conversation. There wasn’t just the mindless adoration dogs showed their owners expressed in them but a more profound understanding of the world around him. It reminded him of a study that had been conducted on pigs.

 

“Did you know that pigs can recognise themselves in the mirror?” he asked and could practically see the cogs turning in Altaïr’s head.

 

“You are saying Poppy is self-aware?”

 

“Yes he is.”

 

“We are going out tomorrow to buy enough fish to feed all of our extended family on Christmas,” Altaïr stated firmly and it was just the kind of thing Altaïr might say. Malik couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“You are shivering and wearing nothing but your pajamas,” was the next thing Altaïr said.

 

Malik got up from the straw and he indeed was shivering. He had been shivering now what seemed like ages.

 

“No shit Sherlock,” he replied and extended his hand for Altaïr who grabbed it. He pulled Altaïr up but didn’t let go of his hand.

 

They walked hand in hand out of the byre into the crisp winter night. Altaïr pulled him even closer than they had been as if he could crawl inside Malik’s pajamas that way.

 

Despite the coldness they stopped to admire the auroras on the sky. Altaïr was warm and fit perfectly against Malik. He could have just stood there for an eternity holding the man he loved the most in the world.

 

“You know I love you. I really do even though I’m sometimes difficult to handle,” he found himself confessing in a sudden burst of emotions.

 

Altaïr smiled and for once it wasn’t a horrible smirk or a grin but genuine gentle smile. Malik felt his knees going weak though he wasn’t sure if it was because of frostbite or something else.

 

“I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

 

And then they kissed with a fervour only stupid teens who were going through their first crush were supposed to be able to.

 

********************

 

The Christmas that year involved Altaïr’s family coming over from the city and Kadar dragging himself and his girlfriend from whatever hole he had been living for the past year to the farm. The animals had received their gifts earlier that day and Malik had his time consumed by attempting to keep Altaïr from burning the house down while at the same time preparing the pork-free Christmas dinner.

 

The dogs were constantly begging for scraps in the kitchen even though Malik could swear he had never given them any reason to think they would get anything. But there they were, all three making puppy faces at him.

 

He had somehow managed to banish Altaïr’s mother out of the kitchen for the time being. His mother-in-law was a meddlesome woman who rang him at least once a week and gave him tips on how to keep house among other things.

 

They would be exchanging the gifts in a bit and Malik couldn’t help but feel nervous about the whole ordeal as his brother had the most horrifyingly smug expression for the duration of the evening. Kadar thought himself so clever and could drive Malik into insanity with an ease.

 

Altaïr didn’t like his little brother all that much and he couldn’t really blame him. The whole ordeal if judged objectively appeared less than favourable towards Kadar. But Kadar was still his brother and the least he could do was to invite him over for the Christmas.

 

Altaïr appeared from the living room while carrying Mao whom he set down on the kitchen counter. Malik looked on worried as the cat got dangerously near the puddings he had set to cool of on the counter.

 

“We are going to open the gifts,” Altaïr said and dragged him to the living room.

 

A Christmas tree was stuck into the corner of the room and it was tied to the roof from its top to prevent it from falling when the animals in the house eventually decided to use it as a plaything. There were several boxes underneath and his brother was eyeing them with greedy eyes.

 

He sat on the couch next to Altaïr and somebody handed him a box with his name on it. He opened it up and found a pair of wellies inside. It was obviously from Altaïr that one. It was a good and much needed thing because he was so cheap himself he would have just worn his old ones until they would have gone to pieces. Again.

 

Besides him Altaïr let out a very undignified shriek and went completely red. Malik looked curiously at his side and saw Altaïr holding a very big pink dildo.

 

Somewhere Kadar burst into a laughter and Altaïr’s parents looked scandalised. The poor girl Kadar had dragged with himself looked utterly confused.

 

Malik gave Kadar a murderous look which quieted his brother though Kadar feigned ignorance under the scrutiny of his gaze.

 

The rest of the gift exchange went in a much more traditional and less dramatic way. The amount of wool socks everyone received from Altaïr’s mother was something to behold though. Not that he was complaining since these things were always appreciated.

 

Nobody questioned why there was no ham in the table and if they had Malik would have silenced the speaker with a warning glare. There was nobody present in the table who dared to challenge him when he gave him the glare, except for Altaïr but that was a completely different thing.

 

In the end the guests all left to their respective directions. Altaïr’s parents went back to the city and tried their best to invite them over which they politely declined.

 

Kadar crawled back to the pot smoker community from which he had come from and took his girlfriend whose name Malik had not even learned with him. Maybe it was for the best too since he was sure the next time he saw Kadar it would be a different girl with him.

 

As for the two of them they still needed to get out and do the evening work around the farm. All the animals needed to be fed and checked before they could retire to eat chocolate while cuddling on the couch.

 

When they went inside the byre both Poppy and Clover greeted them loudly. According to the tradition the animals were supposed to be able to talk during the Christmas night but all he could hear were the normal moos and oinks he heard every day.

 

But maybe there was something special in the air as they silently worked to feed the two animals they both decided to stay and lean on Clover’s pen. The cow was greedy for scratches which they were more than happy to give her.

 

Poppy was obviously jealous of the attention and kept peering at them through the bars.

 

Malik was still giving Clover a scratch when Altaïr leaned heavily against him, pulling him against himself so that they shared as much contact as it was physically possible. Malik stopped petting Clover and turned his attention to Altaïr.

 

“Merry Christmas, Malik.”

 

He wasn’t quite sure which one of them initiated the kiss but he could feel the iron bars of Clover’s pen pressing against his lower back almost painfully. There was something magical in the air and both of them could feel it as they deepened their kiss.

 

It may have been raging cold and dark outside but inside their small bubble it was always warm and light.

 

And Poppy the pig thanked them silently in his straw cushioned pen.

 


End file.
